Triad
by Emmegan
Summary: Gary misses Raoul. Raoul worries about Gary. Buri steps in to fix things, and all three have a very interesting night. WARNING: implied slash. Actually, no: blatantly obvious slash. But it's RBG, so it's got to be good. Enjoy! ... And review!


This was originally written, albeit several weeks too late, for the Dancing Dove's SFF Challenge. I read the categories and fell in love with the idea of a Raoul/Gary/Buri fic. This was written in a rather pieced-together fashion, so apologies if it seems disjointed. WARNING, again: If you can't handle slash, don't read it. A male/male relationship is front and center in this fic! Although everything is implied, due to my inability to write good smut. sigh

But enjoy! All reviewers will be glomped and regarded as spiffy. So... review. Please!

**Triad**

_Raoul/Gary_

"Do you resent her?"

Raoul's voice was chill. The firelight from the hearth in Gary's study shone off the glass of cider the big man was holding.

Gary sighed. "No, Raoul, I don't. I just --"

"We were squires, Gary! You can't possibly believe it could have been anything more than -- than what it was. And at any rate," Raoul added, voice gentling, "it was over long before Buri ever came."

"It," said the other man, voice holding only the barest traces of bitterness. "It. It was love, Raoul, and you knew it as well as I did."

There was a long pause. Raoul leaned forward, placed the cider too carefully on the table. The clink of glass on wood was loud in the silence, and Gary's eyelids flickered. The barest flinch.

"How long has it been?" murmured Raoul finally.

He didn't need to elaborate. "We were squires," echoed Gary. "Twenty, thirty years."

"Thirty _years_," sighed the Knight Commander. "Gods, we're getting old."

"_It_ hasn't," Gary muttered, running his hands through his hair.

"Does it ever?" asked Raoul sharply, standing up. "Of course it was love, Gary, it was love and it still is. You don't just get rid of it. It doesn't work that way -- not between you and me. And not between me and Buri, either."

"You love her."

"Well, don't say it like an accusation!" Raoul's black eyes were pained.

"It's not an accusation, I don't resent her, and I know what it was -- is, and I know we can't get rid of it," snapped Gary, shoving back the chair from his desk and stalking to the window. Before Raoul could say anything, he added, "And don't think I want to get rid of it, either. Believe me, Raoul, if I could have it like we had it when we were sixteen --" he snapped his fingers. "Like that, I would do it."

His head was tipped down, arm resting against the windowsill. Something tugged at Raoul's heart and he stood. Going to Gary, he wrapped an arm around the other man's shoulders. "Would you really?" he said quietly, voice a rumble. "Think of everything that's happened since then. You with Cythera, me with Buri. Our jobs, our lives. I like us the way we are. I wouldn't give up what the both of us have for anything."

"That's because there's nothing left to give up," retorted Gary. "It's not the same, Raoul!"

"Don't get desperate on me," warned Raoul. "You used to do this all the time, and I still won't tolerate it." His tone was almost ridiculously commander-ish.

Gary gave a weak smile. "You wouldn't give it up, then?"

"No."

"Not -- not for what we had? Not for being sixteen --"

"No."

"-- and not caring, and doing what we wanted, and damn to anyone who thought otherwise --"

Raoul covered his mouth with a hand to silence him. "No, Gary, I wouldn't."

Gary wrapped long fingers around his wrist and pulled away the hand. "But why not?" he asked, keeping Raoul's arm in his grasp. Raoul sighed.

"Because I'm an idealist, like Buri is always telling me, and the here and now is just fine for me. And it _has_ to be, because you know we can't have it any other way." His gaze ran over Gary's face gently. "I still love you. Not for the reasons I did when I was sixteen, but for all those and each and every one of the others that's been added on in these past twenty-five years. I still love you."

He bent his head the scant inches down to Gary's mouth and brushed a light kiss across his lips -- a comfort, nothing more, but Gary reached up and pulled Raoul back to him, insistent, thirsty, seeking comfort in the familiarity of the mouth he'd known for so long. Raoul let him. When the kiss broke, Gary froze for a moment, then heaved a sigh. "I should have known better than to debate with you over this."

Raoul laughed and released him. "You should have." He saw a portrait hanging on the wall by Gary's desk, and smiled at the likeness of the woman there. "When does Cythera get back from her sister's?"

Gary rubbed the back of his neck, breathing easier now that the tension between the two of them had cracked. "Not for another week. Sister still needs help with the new twins." He shook his head. "Women. I don't know how they manage to handle it all."

"You and I are both blessed with extremely resourceful ones, you have to admit," pointed out Raoul, making his way across the room. "We're lucky like that."

"Lucky," repeated Gary. "Yes, we are." He glanced at the other man, whose hand was on the doorknob. "Goodnight, Raoul."

"'Night, Gary. Get some sleep."

"Yes, sir, knight commander," replied Gary, grinning, already bending over papers on his desk. He heard Raoul chuckle as the door swung shut.

_Buri/Raoul_

Buri was already curled under the blankets when Raoul opened the door to their bedchamber. Seeing that she was asleep, he undressed quietly and slid into bed next to her, pressing a kiss lightly to her shoulder.

She shifted and rolled over, propping herself up on one elbow. Astute black eyes flicked over him. "How's Gary?"

Raoul glanced at her, and reached up to tug a strand of her hair free. "He's fine," he answered, running his fingers along the length of it. "Moody. But he'll get over it."

"Does he miss Cythera?"

Misses _me_, thought Raoul, but didn't say it. "Yes, I think so." He blinked up at the ceiling. Closure, he thought, that's what Gary needs. I wonder if it will ever be over between the two of us, something that's lasted some thirty-odd years --

"Raoul."

His lover's amused voice cut through his musings. He was still tangling his hand in the soft black silk that surrounded Buri's face. She was smiling. "A penny for your thoughts."

He surveyed her expression wordlessly, admiring the strong cheekbones and straight nose, lips rosy and full against bronzed skin. He'd always seen her for what she was, ever since he'd met her as a sixteen year old, a hardened fighter guarding a future queen, her eyes like onyx. He'd thought she was beautiful, yes, he'd been attracted to her, but he'd pressed it down. Their relationship was to be all business. He had Gary, anyway.

But Gary had understood his feelings about Buri, and had revealed his own about Cythera. How many nights had they lain awake, murmuring about their respective, female loves? Finally Gary told him that what Cythera wanted, and what he was willing to give, was marriage. Raoul had given his blessing, and that was that.

Almost ten years later, he had taken Buri to a Midwinter party on the advice of his clear-headed squire. By midnight she'd been in his bed, lithe body pinned under his, all curves and muscle and sleek skin, everything so much different than Gary had been and in that moment so much _better_, too. He hadn't looked back since.

But now here he was doing just that. It would seem that closure had been given, but it really hadn't. Gary was never jealous of Buri -- or if he was, he never showed it. Yet there was something still deep in Gary's gaze when both men were alone, something unrequited and thirsting. One last drink, thought Raoul, and Gary would be fine. But how was that to be managed? It had been more than two decades since they'd been in each other's beds. Wasn't it too late?

The woman beside him gave him a light nudge. "Wake up. What's going on in there?"

He tipped his head to look at her. Buri might know what to do. She almost always did. "Buri..."

He trailed off again. Neither Cythera nor Buri knew about their husbands' past relationships, either with women or with each other. This was a large part of his life that he'd kept under wraps.

And for what reason? It was nothing to be ashamed of. The "it", again, thought Raoul ruefully. Love.

He let his fingers slide out of Buri's hair, and pushed her back gently on the pillows. "Are you awake enough to hear me out on something?"

She looked up at him quizzically. "You've obviously got something on your mind, Raoul. I'm awake."

So he told her. He told her everything, from the beginning onwards. From that first rapid encounter with Gary after a late night of studying, to being a squire and stumbling half-drunk into a tent that just _happened_ to be occupied by the other, undressed young man, to almost being caught when Jon ambled into the stables to check on his horse. To knighthood, and the sudden weight of responsibility, and the comfort they took in one another. To Cythera, and even to Buri herself -- up to the conversation the two men had had barely fifteen minutes ago.

To her credit, Buri didn't once flinch. Her eyes, always sharp, remained focused on Raoul's face during the entire story. To his discredit, Raoul could barely meet those sharp eyes on many occasions, when his narrative veered into the sexual. Finally he finished, feeling as though a great rush of water had coursed through his being and flushed out all the details.

The following silence pressed against Raoul's chest, wracking him with worry. Next to him, Buri propped her head on her hand, gaze still on his face. After a moment, she reached out and gently traced the line of his collarbone with a finger.

"And he loved you?"

"Yes."

"And he still does." Buri said the words as matter-of-factly as Raoul thought them. "He still does. After all these years."

"Yes."

"And --" she paused for a moment, thinking. "He misses you, then. He misses you and what you represent, and what the two of you had."

"We still _have_ it, Buri," pointed out Raoul. "Not sexually -- we haven't had that in years. But we have the rest of it, the friendship, the conversation. But --"

Buri finished his thoughts. "He misses the sexual part."

"I think that might be it. I think he's wondering if we can ever curtail that part of our relationship. There was never an end to it, after all! There was never a 'this is the last time we'll do this', never an understanding that the sex -- the sex was over and done with." It was hard to say like that. "It's not just the sex, anyway, it's the action and everything it represents. The ability to be alone and in a compromising position with someone. The physical contact, the... everything."

Buri's caress was still floating lightly across his chest. "Do you miss it?"

He tightened, and she added swiftly, "it's not an accusation, Raoul, it's anything but."

After a moment, he sighed. "Sometimes I don't know. I want it more for him than for anything else -- if it were to ever happen. One last hurrah. Something like that. I don't miss it, I guess. I have --" he looked at her again. "I have you, and Mithros knows we spend too much time in bed. I couldn't handle another partner."

She smiled. "Oh, I have my doubts," she teased. The worry in Raoul's mind faded. He should have known better than to think that Buri would be angry with him. As if to prove his point, she pressed up against him, arm encircling his chest, tangling her legs with his. "Well, then," she said quietly, resting her head against his shoulder. "What are you going to do?"

He sighed. "I was hoping you could tell me."

She went quiet for a long time, and he wondered if she had fallen asleep. But soon her body stretched against his, and she sat up, not looking at him. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Buri --"

She was getting out of the bed, her bare form making a clear silhouette in the lamplight from outside. "I'm not mad at you," she said. "A little suprised, maybe, but not even that much."

She walked around to the other side of the bed, and bent over him. "Did you think this would change anything between us?"

He opened his mouth, then shut it sheepishly. "Maybe." She chuckled.

"Well, you were wrong." Her lips met his with the same ease Gary's did, with the same sweet familiarity that marked all their kisses, then pulled away. "Don't go to sleep."

"Where are you going?"

"Does it matter?" she said, with a slightly wicked smile. "I'll be back. But don't go to sleep." She was pulling on her robe.

"But --"

She grinned and slipped out the door, leaving him alone in the dark, both literally and, gods damn it, figuratively. He sighed and laid back down. It was times like these that used to make him want to drink. Now they just gave him a headache.

_Buri/Gary_

The scraping sound of door to his study opening made Gary look up, wary. No one should be awake at this hour -- it was almost midnight.

He stared, suprised, as a small K'miri woman slipped into his rooms, barefoot and wearing a loose robe, black hair loose along her back. "Buri?"

She shut the door before walking over to him. "Gary."

His mind whirled as she sat on his desk. He shouldn't be alone with her, not with Raoul's lover. Mithros knew what someone would think if they were seen, and what it would do to Raoul, not that he listened to gossips anyway, but --

"Raoul told me."

"Told you -- what?"

She reached across the desk and took his hand in one of her own. "About you. About you two. Your relationship."

Gary let out a long exhale and slumped back, his hand sliding out of her grasp. Raoul had told her.

"I came to talk to you," she explained. "I need a favor from you."

"A favor."

She nodded.

"Does it have to do with Raoul?"

"Yes."

He stood up out of his chair. "A favor of what sort?"

"It depends."

He was walking around the desk and stopped in front of her, keen brown eyes inspecting her face. "Explain."

Buri pushed a hand through her hair. "Gary, do you still love Raoul?"

It was a hard question for her to ask. Hard to ask if someone else loved the same man she did, but it had to be done.

It was even harder for Gary to answer. A long silence stretched between him, until he answered, softly, "yes."

She was still sitting on his desk, and he was standing barely a foot away from her. On sudden impulse, she reached out, tangled a hand in his tunic, and pulled him towards her. A mutual understanding was reached half a second before their lips crashed together. Her hand slid into his hair as his went to her waist, each seeking something in the other that might not be found. He pulled her closer, almost lifting her weight off the desk, before they broke apart.

"You taste like him," whispered Gary, resting his forehead against hers. That one taste, the shadow of him still on her lips, made him reel with longing for the real thing.

"So do you," was her breathless response. "Gary, please --"

He kissed her again. They were both conscious that it was the taste of another man they were seeking, and the common need drove them into a strange bond. He pulled away. "What, what? Anything you ask, Buri, just take me to him --"

She covered his mouth with her fingers. "That was all I was going to ask," she replied, voice husky. "Blow out the candles."

_Raoul/Buri/Gary_

It was the last thing Raoul expected, to glance up as the door opened and see Buri leading Gary into the dark room. He sat straight up. "What --"

"Be quiet, you great lunk," his lover -- the most recent of the two standing there -- scolded him softly, grinning. "It's just me. And him, too," she added, as an afterthought of sorts.

The "and him" was leaning against the doorframe, a slight smile on his face. "Evening, Raoul."

Raoul slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed until his feet rested on the floor and slowly released his breath. Buri, gods damn her, had gone and turned the tables on both men. She was standing in between them now, looking as pleased as a cat in the peppermint. "Buri," he asked quietly, knowing that his voice was Knight Commander-calm, "what are you doing?"

She went to him, feet noiseless on the floor, and put her hands on his shoulders. "What I think is the right thing. Don't go all chivalric on me, or I'll --"

"Hush." Raoul looked from her to Gary, and back, then reached up and tugged her head down to his. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?" he whispered, lips inches away from her own. Her eyelashes fluttered, and he kissed her deeply before she could respond.

He released her after she let out a faint whimper, but maintained his gentle grasp on the back of her neck. "You taste like him," he told her softly, eyes flicking to Gary.

She grinned."He tastes like me, too."

Raoul exhaled again, giving up, and then -- as Gary came forward, his hand reaching to cover Raoul's where it rested on Buri's warm skin -- lay back down and let the two people he loved most surround him.

... It was going to be a _very_ good night.


End file.
